Home
by Tari F
Summary: A wandering martial artist comes home. Oneshot


**Home (Oneshot)**  
_By Tari_

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_It's a oneshot. What sorta title should there be?_

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Block. Punch. Dodge.

Two martial artists gauged each other as they stepped back from their attacks, sweat dripping down their brows to land on the blue mat beneath them. Around them, a crowd stood silently, with only the occasional flash of a camera to signify that they even existed.

_Flash!_ A camera went off, and the two fighters once more engaged. They leapt forward, and both intended to end the fight in the next few seconds.

Punch. Jump. Kick. Block. Flip. _Whmp!_ A body hit the floor, and the loser signaled his surrender.

The crowd surged to life, and the quiet of the dojo was suddenly replaced by the yells of the reporters. "Miss Tendo!" a reporter yelled out, "How does it feel to be the champion of the national competition for the third year running?"

The twenty-two year old, blue-haired victor glanced down at the reporter, as the din calmed into a more organized questioning session. "I'll be gone soon enough, no worries there!" She called back, jokingly. "Every year, I'm being pushed to new limits. The competition is fierce!"

"Miss Tendo! How many more years do you think you'll be able to hold this title?" A young reporter held his note pad up and strained his ears to make sure he didn't miss the reply.

"I can't honestly say, you know? Like I said, the competition is fierce. I'll do my best each year and that's it."

The questions flew out endlessly, and Akane graciously answered them for a few minutes before holding up her hand. "As much as I like the attention," she laughed out, "I really need to take a bath. If you'll excuse me."

"Excuse me," a quiet voice piped up from the back of the crowd, "I have one final question." The martial arts champion raised her head and looked towards the voice, though she wasn't able to discern who spoke.

"Okay. What is it?"

"What," the voice whispered out, somehow carrying to Akane's ears despite the murmuring noises of the crowd, "or who, rather, motivated you to reach your current status as a world-class martial artist?"

Akane froze. The question of 'what was your motivation' was a frequent one, but something in the way the question had been worded worried her. She focused on trying to find the speaker in the crowd. "Er," she mumbled out, hoping to locate the speaker, "could you repeat the question, please?"

A hand rose from within the crowd and the voice grew a little louder as it responded, "I'm over here, Miss Tendo. I asked who your motivation was." Akane's eyes swiveled to the hand, but she was disappointed to see that the questioner—a journalist if Akane guessed rightly—herself was covered in a large straw hat, obscuring her face from view.

"I… who, huh?" Akane took a drawn-out breath, then continued, "Who… well… I guess it was my father. He was the first person to teach me the Art." She smiled as she remembered times long past, then snapped her attention back to reality. "If that's all, I'll be taking my bath, now."

The brim of the straw hat rose a little as the woman slowly nodded. "That's all, Miss Tendo. Thank you."

The large gathering of reporters began to file out of the dojo, packing their cameras as they went. Akane didn't notice any of that. Her mind was replaying the woman's nod and the accompanying movement from the straw hat or, rather, what had been under the hat: red hair… and a glimpse of something blue.

She started as she realized that almost all the reporters had left. Her eyes darted quickly around the room until they fell upon the straw hat. That journalist was about to leave!

The representative of the Tendo Dojo took three steps, then launched herself into a jump that carried her all the way to the door. She stumbled on the landing, having forgotten how tired she was, but she still cried out after the retreating journalist. "Ranma! Is that you?"

Akane shielded her eyes as she looked out the door into the daylight. She could make out the journalist a dozen or so meters away on a path surrounded by thick foliage. The red-headed woman has stopped moving and was turning around. A hand went up to the hat and slowly pulled it off.

"Hello, Akane." Ranma smiled a little, a tear dripping from her eye. "It's been a while," she paused and wiped the tear from her cheek before continuing, "I thought you'd forgotten about me."

A beautiful smile bloomed across Akane's face, even as tears began to trickle down her cheeks. She stood up at stumbled towards Ranma. "No no, you dummy!" The tears flowed earnestly now, as she rushed up to Ranma and tossed her arms around the currently female man. "It hurt too much to think about you, Ranma!" Akane's face dropped into Ranma's ample chest, but neither of them paid any real attention to her current gender, so caught up in the moment as they were.

Ranma slipped her arms around Akane and allowed her own tears to flow. "I'm back, Akane," she whispered, "and I'm never going to leave again."

Akane hiccupped and raised her tear-stained face to look at Ranma. "You aren't stuck," she poked Ranma's bosom as she spoke, "like this, are you?"

Ranma smirked in her uniquely confident manner as she shook her head. "Nah, 'Kane-chan… I was just worried that… that I'd be crying a lot tonight." Her tears continued to slide down her face even as she spoke, only serving to emphasize her point.

Akane giggled and lightly socked Ranma's arm, then smiled contently and leaned against Ranma, whispering, "Let's go home, Ranma."

"Yeah."

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**Author's Notes:**

I was working on AMGRK (huh, maybe I should make a cooler abbreviation for that story), even though I swore not to mess with it until I finished my main stories, when this idea sorta popped into my mind.

I'm pretty sure that it's loosely inspired by some other work I read a few years back, but all my searching has turned up nada, so I've given up locating said piece of work.

Hope you guys liked it, even though it's a bit strange and twilight zone-ish.


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